


Masquerade

by E_Salvatore



Series: All the King's Horses [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Mild Angst with a happy ending, Modern Royalty AU, Okay Not Really, basically the Agrestes are royals but everything's more or less the same, guest-starring Alya, post-reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 05:32:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12881196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/E_Salvatore/pseuds/E_Salvatore
Summary: With the kingdom increasingly restless thanks to the omnipresent threat of Le Papillon, Adrien and Marinette find themselves contemplating desperate measures to maintain a facade.





	Masquerade

**Author's Note:**

> Eleanor's Advent Calendar Challenge: join me as I attempt to carry out My Worst Idea Ever and write something new every single day from now until Christmas. This is Day 1.

_“No.”_

_Despite all the fights they’d had in the last year, Marinette had never seen Adrien this forceful. From her spot three seats away from him, she could see him staring down Mayor Bourgeois with a look that would give anyone pause – especially coming from their famously genial and easygoing king._

_Mayor Bourgeois’ gulp was almost comically loud. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but the charter clearly states-”_

_“I don’t care_ what _it says-”_

_“Adrien.”_

_Nathalie silenced the room with a single word from her spot at the king’s right hand. She’d known him since the day he was born, but Marinette could count on one hand the number of times she’d heard Nathalie address Adrien so informally. It was never a good sign._

_“The charter clearly states,” The senior advisor intoned, reading from her notes as though she didn’t have the entire thing memorized, “that after a year of service as acting king, the regent must assume the throne directly and take full responsibility over the kingdom. It has been a year, Your Majesty.”_

_“It has been fifty one weeks,” Adrien grumbled under his breath, words barely audible even to Marinette’s enhanced senses._

_“It has been a_ year _,” Nathalie stressed. “This is long overdue – no mourning period has ever lasted this long.”_

_Master Fu chimed in, a rare occurrence in these council meetings. “I’m afraid I must agree with Miss Sancoeur. Until you assume the full responsibilities and power of the kingship, our nation will continue to face unnecessary scrutiny from the outside world.”_

_Adrien’s shoulders slumped in defeat; it was not often that his two wisest and most trusted advisors agreed, and Marinette knew that their argument was all the stronger for it. Still, she found herself hesitating when he turned to her._

_“What do you think?”_

_Across the table, two of the older advisors – holdovers from King Gabriel’s council – scoffed at Adrien for seeking out her opinion instead of theirs. Sometimes Marinette wished she could show up to these meetings as Ladybug, just to shut them up and get them to take someone other than themselves seriously._

_Now she wished she could answer Adrien as Ladybug, if only because her alter ego always seemed to make better decisions when faced with a ticking clock and a mountain of pressure. Would Ladybug agree with the others and force Adrien into this? Could Ladybug look her partner in the eye and push him down a path he clearly did not want to take?_

_But they weren’t just two relatively-carefree teenage superheroes anymore – they’d become the kingdom’s protectors, both in and out of the suit, and the people had to come before either of them._

_“I think…” Marinette faltered, wishing she were by Adrien’s side and not three seats away from him, wishing she didn’t have to do this in front of a roomful of other people. “I think it’s time.”_

_Adrien clenched his jaw, fixed his mouth in a grim line, and looked at her for what felt like an eternity before he walked out of the room._

_The coronation took place three days later._

* * *

“Whoa, girl! What’s the rush?”

Marinette looks up from her phone just in time to see a frown begin to form on her best friend’s face. “Alya! I’m so sorry. Are you okay? I didn’t see you there… probably because I was glued to my phone. Sorry.”

“Mari, calm down,” Alya laughs, shaking her head at Marinette’s familiar rambling. “I’m perfectly fine – no harm done whatsoever. But are _you_ okay?”

Under her friend’s concerned scrutiny, Marinette imagines the bags under her eyes must look a dozen times darker than they appear to everyone else. “I’m fine, really,” She says weakly, knowing that nothing escapes Alya’s sharp eyes. “It’s just… you know, the ball and the dignitaries and the flower disaster. Nothing too serious.”

The concerned lines on Alya’s face fade away as her features soften. “Mari, you don’t have to pretend. I know this ball’s been hard on you, and now with all of these last-minute issues popping up-”

“It’ll be fine,” Marinette finds herself insisting rather forcefully. “Everything will be fine because it _has_ to be fine.” There’s no room for error, not with Adrien’s first ball as king coming up in four days and hundreds of royals and other important guests slowly trickling into the kingdom. This is their one chance to set everyone’s minds at ease and prove that the kingdom is doing just fine under the leadership of their young king, and that’s exactly what they’re going to do.

It doesn’t matter that the people are restless and Le Papillon is still somewhere out there and even some members of the royal council themselves have called into question Adrien’s ability to lead – there will be none of that while the outsiders are in town, sniffing around for any signs of weakness. As far as they’re concerned, everything will be just _fine_.

“Mari,” Alya grips her friend by the shoulders. “I know this has been hard on you. It’s a huge responsibility to take on. But that’s why there are at least two hundred other people working on this – which means it’s not all on you, honey. No one expects you to handle everything, and no one wants you to work yourself into a coma… or worse. Okay?”

 _Two hundred people_. There are at least two hundred people working on this ball and all of them answer to her. This is _not_ what she’d had in mind when Adrien asked her to take on more responsibility as an advisor and council member.

“Marinette!” Alya shakes her just the slightest bit to snap her out of the mini-panic she’s fallen into. “Don’t work yourself to death, okay? That won’t help anyone. Especially not Adrien.”

“I’ll be fine, Alya,” Marinette offers her friend a reassuring smile as she gently extricates herself from Alya’s hold. “Don’t worry about me. Just focus on your team and keep those press releases coming, okay? The whole world is expecting hourly updates on Adrien’s meetings with all of the other leaders.”

Alya’s eyes grow impossibly wide at the reminder. “Oh god, I’m supposed to be delivering a statement in five minutes! I’ll see you later, Mari. Don’t forget to take a break and have lunch or a nap or something. Oh, and by the way: Adrien wants to see you. Bye!”

She sprints around the corner and out of sight before Marinette can wish her luck or ask if she knows why Adrien wants to see her. It doesn’t make sense for him to have passed that message along to Alya or anyone else instead of contacting her directly, and she mumbles as much out loud as she walks down the hallway.

“Maybe he _did_ text you,” Tikki suggests, popping the lid of Marinette’s bag open by the slightest bit, “but it got buried by the hundreds of other messages you’ve been getting all day?”

Sure enough, Marinette finds an unread message from Adrien; the time-stamp tells her it was sent two hours ago. No wonder he’d been desperate enough to contact Alya, who’ll no doubt tease the both of them for this mercilessly _– if_ she hasn’t forgotten about it by the time everyone’s gone home and she can finally think of something other than press releases and prepared statements.

_Bug, we need to talk. I’ll be waiting at the memorial. Please come as soon as you can step away from the madness._

“Okay,” Marinette pockets her phone and takes a deep breath in order to brace herself for whatever disaster Adrien’s about to inform her of. “Looks like we’re going outdoors, Tikki.”

Tikki does the best impression of a happy twirl that she can manage within the confines of her cramped hiding spot. “That’s wonderful! The gardens are so nice this time of year. And the fresh air will do you a world of good, Marinette. Not to mention the peace and quiet.”

“What do you mean?” Marinette asks as she turns into a smaller hallway that leads to the well-hidden side entrance she and Adrien use to access a shortcut through the gardens.

“Marinette,” Tikki frowns, letting herself out of the bag once they’re out of the castle. She hovers a few inches away from her holder’s face, flying backwards as they continue to make their way through a particularly quiet part of the Queen’s garden. “I know you have to pretend around Alya, but you don’t have to hide anything from me. It’s clear that the past few weeks have been hard on you.”

“The past few weeks?” Marinette echoes, her voice something sharp and bitter and frustrated. “The past _year_ has been hard on me, Tikki – on all of us. But there’s nothing I can do about it, so I need to pretend around Alya, and around you, and around Adrien, and even around _myself_ , because that’s the only way I can get out of bed in the mornings and find it in myself to face the day.”

“Oh, Marinette,” Tikki murmurs, her antennae drooping as she presses her tiny paws to Marinette’s cheek.

Her holder sighs. “I’m sorry, Tikki. I didn’t mean to snap at you,” She offers her kwami an apologetic smile and an open palm, which Tikki happily nuzzles against. “I just… I really don’t want to talk about this right now, okay? I have a bad feeling about whatever it is Adrien’s about to tell me, and I can’t afford to be distracted if he needs my help.”

Tikki perches herself on Marinette’s shoulder. “We won’t talk about it, then. But if you ever want to…”

Sometimes she marvels at the sheer amount of good luck she must’ve had to be paired up with such a supportive and loving kwami – especially compared to the gluttonous sloth Chat Noir’s stuck with.

Speaking of whom…

“What do you mean you don’t even have a ring? How can you expect her to agree if you don’t plan to dazzle her with a huge, shiny stone first? Unless, of course, you plan to replace the huge, shiny stone with a huge, delicious wheel of Camembert,” Plagg sighs dreamily, his voice losing the shrill disapproval that had accompanied his preceding sentences.

“Plagg!” Adrien’s familiar voice hisses. “Will you please just _shut up_ before she hears you?”

“Oh, come on, it’s been two hours. It’s not like she’s gonna show up right now just as I start talking about it. Even you can’t be _that_ unluc-”

“ _Ahem_ ,” Tikki clears her throat rather pointedly, greeting a stunned Plagg with crossed arms and a scowl.

“I take it back,” Plagg says as he zooms back to Adrien and disappears behind his holder in a futile effort to avoid his counterpart. “You’re the unluckiest person in the whole universe.”

Heavy, dense branches slowly part to make way for the larger-than-life statue of the Queen and her newly gained companion. Seeing King Gabriel’s statue right next to his beloved wife’s memorial is going to take some getting used to, and seeing him without instantly thinking of their last interaction and his alter ego is going to take even more time and effort. For now, though, Marinette ignores the looming statue in favor of the figure standing right in front of the Queen.

“Marinette,” Adrien chokes out after a moment spent on a rather convincing impression of a statue. “So… uh… how much of that did you hear?” He looks up at her through lowered lashes, one hand rubbing the back of his neck in a familiar nervous tick.

“Um,” Marinette remains rooted to the ground, ten feet away from Adrien and the statues of his parents. Her mind refuses to believe that Plagg was talking about what she thinks he was talking about, but there’s not much else that would involve a shiny ring and the need to secure an agreement. “All of it?” She tells Adrien with a wince, secondhand embarrassment sending a flush up her neck and to her cheeks. “Sorry. Plagg’s kinda loud.”

“I resent that!” Plagg protests from somewhere behind Adrien, only to shriek in shock when Tikki ambushes him and drags him away to give their holders some privacy. “Help! I’m being catnapped!” He wails as his voice grows faint with distance.

Adrien finally makes eye contact and offers Marinette a stilted, awkward laugh. “Looks like Tikki’s rescued us yet again.”

“We should probably give her extra cookies. Like a salary for being on Plagg-duty,” Marinette blurts out in agreement. She offers Adrien a weak laugh of her own before fixing her eyes on some distant point beyond his shoulder, the both of them falling into a heavy silence.

“Okay, this is beyond ridiculous-”

“Marinette, there’s no easy way to say this-”

They laugh; she’s glad to note that it’s at least genuine this time, even if it’s still more awkward than any interaction between the two of them should ever be. They’ve been partners for a decade, and friends for two. Awkwardness should’ve stopped being an issue the minute they grew out of their teens.

“I’m sorry,” Adrien says, his hand once again at the back of his neck. “You go fir-”

“No easy way to say what?” The words burst forth without her permission even as a part of her longs to delay this for as long as possible. Marinette is on the council – she knows what some of them have been discussing lately. It doesn’t take a genius to connect that to Plagg’s accidental reveal. The fact that she knows Adrien had a meeting with Master Fu and Nathalie this morning doesn’t help, and now there’s a very, very bad feeling in her gut.

Adrien wordlessly lowers himself to the ground, knees drawn up to his chest and back leaning against his mother’s leg.

He won’t say it – can’t, probably, but that doesn’t make Marinette any less annoyed at the fact that she has to be the one to say it, she has to be the one to take charge and step up and be brave. That used to be Ladybug’s domain; these days it feels like the weight of the world is always on her shoulders, superhero or not.

Marinette folds herself down on the ground, cross-legged and back resting against the Queen’s other leg. King Gabriel’s statue would offer more distance between them, but she can’t bring herself to acknowledge it in any way just yet.

“They want you to get married,” She states evenly, eyes focused on the tall branches of a tree a few feet ahead.

Adrien doesn’t look at her when he speaks; she knows these kinds of things, developed a sixth sense for them a long time ago. “They think it’ll send a message to the others – that I’m serious about starting a new chapter, about being a real king and not just a seat-warmer for a king they think will never come back.”

She doesn’t address the fact that even if they defeat Papillon peacefully, even if they somehow manage to bring his father back, King Gabriel will never sit on the throne again. It’s an old, festering wound by now, and one that she doesn’t have the energy to reopen today. “What do you think?” Marinette asks instead, finally gathering up the courage to look at him.

“I think…” Adrien turns towards her, knows the instant her eyes are on him in the exact same way she would have felt his eyes on her. “I think the kingdom needs a queen. I think the people need a happy distraction. I think…” He reaches out, almost as if to take her hand – only for his fingers to curl so tightly around a chunk of grass between them that his knuckles go white.

“I think I can’t do this alone anymore,” He whispers, eyes falling away from hers.

Marinette can handle Adrien getting married to someone else. She can handle the pain it’ll cause her, she can handle her raging emotions, she can handle everything _but_ the implication that he’s been going through any of this alone when she’s been here the whole time, every step of the way, faking and pretending and acting every goddamn second of her life so that things will be easier for him and the people around them.

Adrien actually flinches when she abruptly stands up, but Marinette can’t find it in her to even look at him. “So,” She says as she brushes imaginary grass and dirt off the back of her skirt, “who’s the lucky woman?”

“Wait, what?”

The bewilderment in Adrien’s voice is so strong it causes her to falter in her unnecessarily busy actions. She watches as he scrambles to his feet and closes the distance between them.

“What?” Marinette snaps, crossing her arms. She wants to be supportive, she wants to at least fake some kind of encouraging reaction, but Adrien’s making that impossible by dragging this out.

“Marinette,” He steps closer, curves a hand around her cheek-

 _Oh_.

“Marinette, you’re the only person I could ever marry.”

**_Oh._ **

“My lady, I’m gonna need you to say something,” Adrien says after a good thirty seconds of silent eye contact, trying to mask the uncertainty and fear in his eyes with teasing words. “Silence after a declaration like that is enough to take at least three lives off any cat.”

When they were fourteen, Adrien spent a summer away; the stranger who came back three months later had the unnerving ability to make Marinette stutter and flail and babble. It wasn’t because his eyes had grown greener or his height finally matched hers; it was time and distance that had drawn a distinct line between the Adrien from Before and the Adrien After _That_ Summer, a line that allowed Marinette to see one as a child and the other as an adolescent boy on the path to adulthood. That fall was the first time she ever dreamed of marrying him.

When they were seventeen and she’d finally managed to box up all of her Messy Adrien Feelings, Marinette started entertaining the idea that maybe, just maybe, a boy wouldn’t flirt with you for two whole years unless he had real feelings for you. She never shared this idea with Chat, but she had this odd dream every few weeks for the rest of the year: one of her wearing a white dress over her Ladybug suit and Chat wearing a dapper tux over his leather suit, waiting for her at the end of the aisle.

When they were twenty, Chat started visiting her as Marinette and Adrien suddenly started to stutter and flail and babble around her. It was a confusing time, filled with confusing dreams that featured alternating grooms (or in one very memorable case, _two_ grooms).

Marinette has never dreamed of marrying anyone other than Adrien, even when she thought she did. This should be everything she’s ever wanted, everything she’s ever (literally) dreamed of, and yet–

“Adrien, I…” She can’t find the words – or any words, at all. It feels like someone is pinching her airway close, one tiny millimeter at a time. She can’t speak, can’t breathe, can’t _think_ as everything finally comes crashing down on her: weeks spent acting like she isn’t drowning alive, months of pretending to be fine, more than a year of lying to everyone about Gabriel… Her life has always been a bit of a lie, ever since the day Tikki chose her, but this is too much. This is sacred and _hers_ and she doesn’t care anymore, not if it means she can’t keep even this tiny little dream away from the act her life has turned into.

When her vision clears up – she hadn’t even noticed the world going dark, so trapped was she in her own thoughts -, Marinette finds herself in Adrien’s arms. They’re on the ground again, his back to his mother’s statue and his arms holding her sideways in his lap. “Shh,” He murmurs soothingly, over and over again as he gently rocks her. “Just breathe, Mari. It’s okay.”

“But it’s not,” She whispers, leaning into him. Adrien stills, and she hide her face in his shirt just to avoid him a little longer. “Nothing’s okay, Adrien. And I’m tired of pretending it is. I’m tired of pretending, period.”

“Marinette-”

“Do you remember the first time we met?” Marinette cuts him off, offers him a too-bright smile and words tinged with desperation.

It takes a while for the concerned lines on Adrien’s face to disappear, but he smiles eventually. “The month before my fifth birthday?” He plays along and she – she loves him for it, just a bit. 

“Yeah, the first time my parents were invited to the castle, after- after your-” Here at the foot of the cold, lifeless statue of a woman who remains so vibrant and alive in her memories, Marinette finds herself unable to go on.

“After my mother tried some of the bakery’s macarons,” Adrien supplies quietly. “God,” He chuckles at the rest of the memory, “you _hated_ me.”

“I did _not_!” She cries indignantly, going so far as to lightly smack his shoulder. “I hated Chloé, and you were always following her around… you just seemed like a package deal, I guess.”

Adrien grins. “But you _did_ hate me just a teeny-tiny bit, didn’t you? Just at the start, when you thought I was like Chloé.”

“Fine,” Marinette concedes. “Just a bit. For like a day, at most.” She shifts in Adrien’s lap before realizing that she’s _still in Adrien’s lap_ , prompting her to move and sit facing him instead.

“We’ve known each other since we were _five_ ,” Marinette marvels. “I don’t remember what my life was like before you, and I pray I’ll never have to find out. And no matter what happens between us, Ladybug will always be there for her _minou_. But Adrien, I…”

“You won’t marry me,” He steps in when her voice falters, and the sad smile he wears makes her wish she could say otherwise.

“I _can’t_ marry you,” She clarifies, not that it’ll make much of a difference.

He stares at her for a while, long enough for her to mutter a self-conscious “what?” at his tilted head and thoughtful frown.

“Why?”

“Why what?” Marinette plays dumb, reluctant to make a fool out of herself but knowing that she owes him at least the truth.

“Why can’t you marry me?” Adrien asks gently. “I know this isn’t what you wanted, Mari. And it’s definitely not what you deserve. But this is the only good solution and you know it. It doesn’t make sense for me to marry anyone else, not at the risk of them finding out about our identities or… or my father’s. And this way you’ll finally have the authority you deserve on the council.”

Of course it’s the most sensible solution, of course it all makes sense – but Marinette doesn’t want to get married for _sense_. “Adrien, that’s not-”

“And if it’s… if it’s about…” It almost looks as if Adrien’s blushing as he steels himself and looks her in the eye. “Marinette, I know the circumstances aren’t exactly normal but you must know what this means to me. The council might think this is a good distraction or a strong message or whatever but it would be real – to me, at least. You would be my _wife_ , and I love you as much as anyone can possibly love their partner, maybe more-”

 _I love you_. Adrien is still talking but Marinette can’t hear him over the words ringing in her ears, _I love you I love you_ not _I would love you_ but _I **love**_ _you_ , present current applicable-right-now tense and all and she’s hit by the sudden realization that if she were to say something back, if things were different –

If she were to say something back, it would be _I love you too_ , present current applicable-right-now tense and all.

After twelve years of chasing after each other, they’re finally on the same page.

“Not that I would expect the same from you, or anything at all, I know you don’t feel that way anymore and that’s… well, not okay, but I’m-”

“Adrien.”

He stops talking immediately.

“Adrien,” She repeats, just in case he didn’t notice the urgency in her voice the first time. “If I didn’t… if I saw you as just a friend, just my partner, I would have said yes immediately.”

“But-” Adrien stares at her, all wide eyes and stunned silence and cautious hope.

“It would have been _so_ easy,” Marinette breathes, moving back into his lap, “to say yes,” She presses her forehead to his, closes her eyes and lets herself smile – a genuine, uncontrollable, couldn’t-stop-it-even-if-I-wanted-to smile – for the first time all year, “if the thought of being fake-married to you didn’t _kill_ me because of how in love with you I am.”

“Oh,” He says, a small puff of air against the corner of her lips.

“Oh,” She agrees, and wide smiles turn into small kisses that turn into little bursts of laughter that eventually leave them gasping for air while Tikki and Plagg puzzle over their sudden laughing fit.

There’s still the matter of the flower disaster, and the hundreds of guests they have to impress, and the entire kingdom’s worth of people they need to reassure, and the wayward king they need to defeat, but at least Marinette will be able to cross three out of those four things off her to-do list by the end of the week.

They announce their engagement at the ball four days later.

**Author's Note:**

> When I first posted this nearly a year ago, I told most readers that I had no plans to continue this AU. Now here I am with a sequel, plus a third and final part planned for later this month. I hope you guys enjoyed this. Comments are strongly encouraged and much appreciated!


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